Hope against Despair
by Laura Andrews
Summary: Amandil visits Miriel before he makes his last voyage.


When the preparations for sailing were well underway, Amandil gave thought to Miriel the queen. It was rumored that she was one of the Faithful in secret, and, refusing to worship Sauron, had fallen out of the favor of Ar-Pharazon.

Amandil did not know whether this was true, for Ar-Pharazon, with Sauron behind him to give greater strength to his pride and folly, would brook no rebellion, least of all in his own house. He thought it more likely that the queen had simply faded from the king's mind, as his desire for life unending consumed him more and more.

She lived now in a house several miles from Armenelos; a beautiful house set amidst gardens and trees of which many were descended from those brought as gifts by the Eldar when there was still friendship between the two peoples. Amandil sighed. So few were left who counted themselves among the elf-friends.

He came to a high gate wrought of steel in many delicate, blade-slender shapes of birds and flowers. Within, he caught a glimpse of the house were Miriel lived.

He rang the bell that hung on the gate and waited until a maiden opened it to him.

"I desire an audience of the queen," he said.

She led him into the house and left him in the receiving room. It was wide and airy, with cool stone beneath his feet and bright tapestries on the walls; but Amandil sensed a noiseless sorrow that was woven into the very threads and worn into the stones. He took a seat and leaned back, going over in his mind the terrible events of the last months and years. The land was darkened by the blood of the Faithful; Ar-Pharazon, who had been his friend, was now the slave of Sauron; he did not desire the good of Numenor, but lusted only and ever for deathlessness. Amandil could not deny that the thought of death was fearful; but that was the doing of Sauron and of Morgoth, working even in the hearts of those who trusted the word of the Valar, that death was a gift and not a curse.

But he would rather die, yes, die even now, than live as a raving madman, cursing and fearing the very thing that would give release. He shuddered.

The door opened, and Miriel entered the room. Amandil rose, bowed deeply before her, and then looked upon her face for the first time in many years. Being of the line of Elros, she had aged little, and was still fair and youthful; but her eyes were old, and the spirit within them was worn and broken. In her youth she had been called Miriel the Laughing-eyed, but there had been no laughter in these eyes for time without count; and he grieved, for he had loved her when they were young.

"Amandil," she said, and held out her hand to him. He took it and kissed it.

"May we speak in private, my lady?" he asked.

She nodded, and together they walked out of the house and into the garden.

"Why have you come?" she asked, when they were well out of the hearing of any of the household.

"You have heard, no doubt, of the king's intention to take by force the deathless land from the Valar?"

"Alas, yes." Miriel passed a hand across her forehead as if she were too warm, though the breeze was cool beneath the shadows of the trees. "But the king will do as he pleases."

"I do not think that this land will long endure, if once he sets out on this fool's errand," Amandil said. "We have made ready our ships to sail to Middle Earth, and all of the Faithful whom we can find, and persuade to leave, are gathered at the haven. Will you not come, too?"

She sighed, a long and bitter sigh, and turned from him.

"Do you think it would escape the king's notice if I did such a thing? Your lives would be in danger if he knew what you purpose to do."

"We are in danger every moment, as long as we are offered on the altar of Morgoth," Amandil said.

She turned to him and looked into his eyes, long and searchingly. "You are going to Aman," she said at last, slowly. "You will give up your own life so that you might plead with the Valar on our behalf."

Amandil bowed his head in acknowledgement. "How does my lady know of this?"

"I am the daughter of Tar-Palantir the fore-sighted," she said. "And I say to you, that if you go, you will not return."

"Nonetheless, I must go," he said. "And before I do, I wish to know that you are safe. Will you not go to the haven, where hope of escape still lives?"

"There is no hope." Miriel's tone was hard. "Sauron has corrupted the hearts of the people; his power will not be contained to Numenor. The strength of Ar-Pharazon is so great that it might not be called pride but plain truth; he is so mighty that even the Valar might fear him. You will never return, and your errand will be in vain. There is no hope."

"I will not despair while Iluvatar lives," Amandil said, and he took her cold hand in his. "For he, not Ar-Pharazon, made the world. And if Earendil could break the ban and plead for his people, why not I?"

"His plea was for a people weary and ready to repent," Miriel said. "Yours is for a people at the height of their pride, who scorn the Valar and would lay waste to all the world, if so they might have everlasting life."

"Then go to my son at the haven," Amandil urged. "Why remain here any longer? For in Middle Earth we may have hope of a better life, free of the evils and cruelties of Sauron and of the king."

She shook her head. "How can I leave all that I have known? Numenor is my home; here I will remain."

"There is yet time to change your mind," he said. "A place will be ready for you on the ship."

"Farewell, Amandil," she said. "May the Valar speed your journey, fruitless though it will be."

"Farewell, Tar-Miriel, true and rightful Queen of Numenor. The sun rises anew every morning, no matter how dark the night; and until then I will keep my candle bright."

"Hope on, then," she said. "But my candle has long since been extinguished."


End file.
